


We're Just Human

by who_wants_to_know



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bisexual Mike Wheeler, Byeler - Freeform, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gay Panic, Gay Will Byers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Will Byers Can't Catch a Break, byler, please god just give will a gotdam break
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-08-03 17:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16330811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/who_wants_to_know/pseuds/who_wants_to_know
Summary: "'I’m okay. I had a bad dream. That’s all.' Mike stares at him. Why were you calling for me, he doesn’t ask. Why not your mom, or Jonathan, or anyone else?"ORWill Byers and falling in love, learning, and making mistakes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Dodie's song Human, which I highly recommend.

Returning from Hopper’s cabin with Nancy, Jonathan, and Joyce was a hazy, dream-like affair. He filtered in and out of consciousness as he was carried to the car and driven home by Jonathan. As they pulled up to the house, Will could sense something was wrong. He wasn’t sure what it was, but the house, even from the outside, felt too empty. Wasn’t Mike supposed to be there? Will had a vague recollection of Mike standing, tear-filled and fidgeting.  _ It was the best thing I’d ever done. _ A shiver passed through Will’s body that had nothing to do with the November chill. 

As they entered the dark house, Will was immediately struck by how cold it was. Technically, it was no colder inside than it had been outside. But for all thirteen years of his life Will had associated this house with warmth, with family, with light. The chill, the darkness, and the emptiness were unsettling. He wriggled in Jonathan’s arms.

As soon as Joyce turned on the light, she almost immediately stumbled over something. Will couldn’t see what it was, but the way that Jonathan stiffened against him filled him with anxiety. Jonathan set Will down on the sofa and went over to what Will now knew to be a person’s sleeping form. Sleeping? Was he dead? Will looked up at the ceiling. The chill, the ache in his body, and the helplessness all reminded him of something too familiar. He squeezed his eyes shut.

When he awoke several minutes later, little had changed. The body on the floor was gone, and Jonathan was sitting on the ground by Will. His concerns from before returned, in full force this time. 

“M...Mike?” Will rasped. The intense heat and hysterical screaming from the cabin had left his throat parched. Jonathan peered down at him. “Where’s Mike?” When Jonathan had no response, Will craned his neck around and his eyes latched onto Nancy. Competent, capable Nancy. Mike’s sister. Surely she would know where he was. 

Nancy, however, wasn’t looking at him. She was pacing anxiously back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Every so often, she would burst out, “Where could they be?” She appeared close to tears. 

Every time she asked this question, Jonathan would shake his head. “I don’t know.” Nancy would throw up her hands and continue pacing in silence.

Will could hear clattering from the kitchen, and then Joyce came out and into the living room. She kneeled beside him.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said softly, “Do you want to take a shower?”

Will had a vague recollection of the last time he tried to take a shower days before. The warm water terrifying him. This time, however, he couldn’t get the water hot enough. Even when it made his skin red and hurt the burn he had on his side, he liked it. He could almost feel the ice just beneath his skin starting to melt as he washed his hair and body. Too soon, though, the hot water ran out and left Will in cold rain. He left the shower and pulled a towel around himself, drying his skin. He brushed his teeth for the first time in what felt like forever, and he emerged from the bathroom feeling almost human again. 

He shuffled to his room and pulled on layers of sweatshirts and pants before curling up in his bed. He felt fatigue wash over him once again, the brief burst of energy he had found as he had scrubbed himself clean flickering out as he went to sleep.

He was back in Hawkins Lab again. Bloody bodies littered the ground and the hallway was closing in on him until they were the tunnels. The shadow monster chasing him. The demogorgon unlocking the door. Someone was screaming. He was on fire. The screaming got louder.  _ Stop it!  _ The screaming did not stop. Where was Mike?  _ Mike!  _ Something grabbed his arm. He recoiled away, his eyes snapping open as his hand thrashed out. The screaming stopped. His throat ached. 

“Will!” Mike stared at him, his eyes wide and scared. “You okay?”

Will relaxed, leaning back on his bed. Mike did not let go of his arm. “Yeah. I’m okay. I had a bad dream. That’s all.”

Mike didn’t look convinced.

“Y...you can let go of my arm now,” Will said. Mike pulled his hand back instantly, and Will regretted saying anything. His arm burned where Mike had touched him, and Will craved all kinds of warmth, of heat. He looked around. It was still dark out, but his clock informed him that it was three in the morning, that he had been asleep for four hours. That was enough for him. He climbed out of bed and out of his room, Mike following closely behind him as he went into the kitchen. There was a girl who Will didn’t know sitting on the sofa, but he felt an intense feeling of safety and comfort and love surrounding her, in some strange way. 

His mother, who had no doubt had been held back when Will had started screaming, sprang up from the chair and embraced him. He tolerated it, standing still as she rubbed his back and kissed his head. “Do you want something to eat?” She asked, when she pulled away from him. “I, uh, I can put on some soup for you, if you want.” Will nodded and she turned away, busying herself with getting out a can of Campbell’s out of the cupboard. On the way into the kitchen, she stepped over Dustin, Lucas, and Max, who were cleaning up a mess of vegetables and condiments on the floor. Will sat down next to Dustin, and Mike sat close behind.

“What are you guys doing?” He asked. 

Dustin gave a huff. “Slowing down the human race’s scientific discoveries is what.” He plucked a large shard of glass out of a pile of mayonnaise. 

“Dustin wanted to keep a dead demodog in the fridge, but Joyce vetoed it,” Lucas explained as he pulled a bag of wilted lettuce out from under the refrigerator. 

“A...demodog?”

Lucas, Dustin, and Max looked at each other with wide eyes. “Will...you know how the demogorgon came back as like, a bunch of little ones?” Max began.

Will nodded. It was easier than going back, picking apart the murkiness of his thoughts over the past days. Joyce came by with a tray, setting it down on the floor next to Will. He stared at the steaming tomato soup, the water, the bread and felt his stomach turn. Blood spattered on the wall of the lab. He took the glass of water and swilled it around a bit before drinking it all. He tore the bread in two and nibbled at the piece in his hand. When he finished, he stood up. Mike shot up almost immediately.

“Do you need anything?” Mike asked.

“Uh…I need to pee?”

“Oh. Yeah. Right. You...you go do that.” Mike stammered. He sat back down and busied himself with helping Dustin clean up the mayo on the floor. 

Once Will locked himself in the bathroom, he sat down on the lid of the toilet and buried his face in his hands. He didn’t know how he would deal with the weeks and months to come. He took a deep breath. One thing at a time. He stood up and left the bathroom, and helped his mother take down the dozens of drawings on the walls. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I am riding this motivation wave as far as it will take me. I gotta pace myself or else I'll get some serious burnout, but here's chapter 2!

When they all clambered out of the tunnels and collapsed onto the dirt, coughing and pulling off their gear, Mike had a feeling that the worst was behind them.

That feeling popped like a bubble when Steve, who insisted on taking the wheel, swerved off of the road after five minutes, barely throwing the car door open before he vomited on the street.

“Does he have a concussion?” Lucas asked. He clambered over the armrest to look at Steve. “If he has a concussion, he shouldn’t be driving.”

Steve righted himself and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “M’fine,” he said.

Lucas didn’t look even a little bit convinced. “Steve, what’s today’s date?”  
“I said I’m _fine_.”

The rest of the trip back to Will’s house was spent with Lucas asking, “are you _sure_ you’re okay?” while Max looked all too eager to resume the role as the main driver and Mike bounced his legs furiously and drummed his fingers on the car door.

When they finally pulled up at Will’s house, the lights were on and figures inside of the house could be seen moving around. Mike shot out of the door before Steve had turned the car off and was sprinting towards the door. He threw it open, leaping over Billy’s body and down the hallway. “Will! Will!” He cried. “Eleven! Will!” A hand grabbed onto his arm before he burst into Will’s bedroom. It was Nancy.

“Do you know how _fucking_ worried I’ve been?” She whisper-shouted. “You can’t just _do_ shit like that, running off when there are _fucking_ demogorgons on the loose! Do you want to end up dead in some _fucking_ hole? Do you want to end up like…” Her voice cracked then, stopping her from saying any more. Instantly, she wrapped her arms around Mike and held him close. Mike resisted for just a moment before he melted and hugged her back. They held onto each other for what felt like hours before Mike felt another hand placed gently on his shoulder.

“He’s here, okay? He’s just asleep,” Jonathan whispered. Mike tiptoed out of the hall and into the living room.

“What about El?”

Jonathan’s silence was enough of an answer. Tornado-Mike was back, this time eerily silent as to not disturb Will (as if anything could wake him after the raucous entrance Mike made before) as he paced around the room. Jonathan couldn’t help but notice the furrow in his brow, the way his mouth was set in a straight line, the determined strides. He was the spitting image of Nancy, who had been pacing the same patch of carpet not ten minutes before. Nancy clearly seemed to think so too, as she stood next to Jonathan and they both observed Mike’s frenzy, and they both felt the same feelings of anxiety and relief and just a hint of amusement.

The moment was shattered, however, when the forgotten Billy gave a groan and propped himself up on his elbows. “Whassgoinon?” He slurred, blinking blearily. Jonathan cursed under his breath and looked at Steve, who was bloody and battered and looking at Billy with a mixture of rage and fear. Even the way he had his feet planted showed that Steve’s fight-or-flight instincts were at the ready. Nerves crackled off of his skin like static.

“Alright, buddy, we’re gonna get you into your car,” Jonathan sighed, rolling up his sleeves as if he was prepared to drag Billy down the porch steps and, somehow, up into his car.

Right on time, the headlights of Hopper’s car and the crunch of damp leaves and rocks alerted everyone that they were home. Mike turned sharply and tore open the door. Hopper was carrying an unconscious Eleven into the room when he tripped over a delirious Billy, who appeared to be having some sort of mental trip.

After setting El down on the sofa, Hopper and Jonathan carried Billy out to Hopper’s cruiser. It was a struggle between Hopper and Jonathan to have Hopper drive Billy to the station when all he wanted to do was to _drop everything right there and make sure she was okay_ , but eventually, he conceded after seeing that Mike would clearly protect Eleven with his life and then some.

El woke shortly after Hopper left to the smiling face of Joyce and the nervous one of Mike. “Hi, honey,” Joyce whispered. “How do you feel?” El tried to respond, but her mouth felt crackling and dry. Mike immediately sprinted to the kitchen, clanged around for a moment, then hurried back with a glass of water. El took it and drank gratefully. She had never tasted anything so sweet.

Once she had drained the glass, she wiped her mouth with her arm. “Can I take a bath?”

When she emerged from the bathroom, makeup, hair gel, and blood having washed down the drain and wearing a too-large T-Shirt and sweatpants, Hopper had returned with Jonathan. Hopper was holding a sandwich on a plate, and he offered it out to her. She took half and sat on the sofa next to Mike. She was halfway done with it when she paused and glanced over. Mike was ogling her with wide eyes. As soon as she noticed, he snapped back to reality and blushed, stammering his way around a sentence. “Y...your hair,” he began. El furrowed her brow and made a _yeah, what about it?_ gesture with her hand. “It’s...curly.”

“Still pretty?” she said. She tried to put a joking, coquettish lilt to the old words, but her efforts were lost on Mike.

“Y-yeah! Still pretty! Uh...prettier, um.” He trailed off, then gave a half chuckle. “You kind of looked like a boy before. Not that, you know, you weren’t pretty then. Agh!” He buried his face in his hands.

El laughed in earnest then. “Boys are pretty, too,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at Mike. He stuttered for a moment, starting sentences without finishing them, before joining her laughter.

Suddenly, a piercing scream cut through their quiet chatter. And then another. Mike jumped to his feet before he realized that the screams were words. Well, one word.

“MIKE! _MIKE_!” Will cried from his room. More screams. Immediately Joyce was on the defensive, dashing for his room. Mike was almost as fast, but Hopper held Joyce back. Barely.

Mike was in Will’s room, trying to restrain his writhing body, shouting assurances of _I’m here!_ And _It’s okay!_ over Will’s screams when Will gave a shudder and wakes up. “You okay?” He said as if Will wasn’t screaming bloody murder seconds before.

“Yeah. I’m okay. I had a bad dream. That’s all.”

Mike stared at him. _Why were you calling for me,_ he doesn’t ask. _Why not your mom, or Jonathan, or anyone else?_

“You can let go of my arm, now,” Will said. Mike realized that he'd been gripping Will’s shoulder since before he woke up as if he could press assurances and safety and security into Will’s sweatered arm. He let go. He knew it was silly, but he felt like the hand was a branch of some sort. An invitation to what, to give Mike a hug?

To let him know that he’s not alone is what Mike’s mind settled on. It was easier than thinking through it any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoot me a quick comment letting me know what you think! 
> 
> My Tumblr is @lofe-mawk and feel free to go over and check it out!


	3. Chapter 3

Will pressed his face against the window, his breath fogging up the glass as he watched Hopper’s cruiser pull up to the house. He came out of the car, checked around himself, and quickly opened the passenger door to let El out. She was hurried into the house, Hopper glancing behind the whole way up the porch and into Will’s house. 

Once she was safely inside, Joyce gave her a half-hug and a kiss on the head. She made a motion to hug Hopper, but it turned into a very awkward dance around each other before Hopper cleared his throat very loudly, said goodbye to El, and looked Will dead in the eyes. 

“I want both of you to be in one piece when your mother gets back, young man. Do you hear me?” 

Will grinned and nodded. Hopper gave El a hug, waved them goodbye, and headed back out to work.

Joyce spent a few minutes telling them to eat the leftovers in the fridge and reminding them to  _ call her  _ if they needed  _ anything _ , before Will reminded her how late she was and all but shoved her out the door.

And then Will and Eleven were alone together.

Will only had a vague recollection of the events of that night. After everyone was back at his house, Dustin and Lucas and Max were dropped off at their houses. Nancy dragged Mike home with her, but Mike stayed on the supercomm with Will all night. After being thoroughly looked over by Hopper, it was decided that Steve showing up at the emergency room in the dead of night beaten to a pulp would cause unwanted attention, and he was sent home with instructions to ice his wounds and to call someone if he felt dizzy or nauseous.

And that just left El and Hopper. They stayed the night, with Hopper on the sofa and El in Will’s bed (Will slept with Joyce--neither of them wanted to be alone that night). By the time Will had woken up, though, El and Hopper were both gone. Will had not seen El since then, but now she was staring at him with big, unblinking brown eyes.

When Will had heard wide-eyed, hushed stories of her powers from the boys, he had imagined a kind of superhero. Shaved hair, bleeding nose, throwing shit around like Jean Grey in a frilly pink dress. When she returned, the boys had told him more stories of her punk evolution, with dark eye makeup and slicked back hair and black clothing. He was not expecting this sweatered, curly haired little girl to be standing in his living room looking at him expectantly.

Nonetheless, here she was, and they were going to have to figure out a way to become pretty fast friends, or else they would have to spend a lot of time sitting in awkward silence.

“So.” Will cleared his throat. “Uh, what do you like to do, for fun?”

Eleven blinked slowly. Then, she shrugged. “I like soaps.”

Will made a face. “What, like soap operas?”

“Yes.”

Will scuffed the carpeted floor with his socked foot. Her candor and innocence were so different from all the other girls he knew. Even Max, who he considered to be a very Cool Girl, had a sharp edge to her, all straight ink lines and stark shadows. Will didn’t have to be a genius to know that she was dangerous. He also knew that El had killed an entire team of evil scientists, but it was hard to imagine that from the kid in front of him. He had been silent for too long now, and she was looking at him funny.

“Do you like music?”

El nodded. “You don’t mess around with Jim.”

“W...what?”

El gave just a hint of a smile. She hummed a few bars of the song, wiggling her hips slowly and snapping her fingers in an imitation of Hopper.

Will gave a snort of laughter. “You like Jim Croce?  _ Why _ ?”

El’s goofy dance stopped abruptly. Her smile vanished and her eyes darkened. “It’s  _ good _ .”

Will took a step back and held his hands out. “Whoa, okay. Jesus.” He gave a little cough. “I have some, uh, other music. Do you wanna listen to that?”

All of a sudden, her glare faded. “Okay,” she said brightly. Will felt like he had just turned sharply on a roller coaster. Her sudden mood swings gave him whiplash, and he was slightly intimidated. Nonetheless, he took her by the hand and led her into his bedroom.

He wanted to show her some of the mixtapes that Jonathan had made over the years, but he didn’t fully trust himself to not ruin Jonathan’s carefully organized tapes. So instead, they turned on the crappy radio in Will’s room. An upbeat rhythm filled the room as Cindy Lauper began to sing.  _ Ooh, girls, they wanna have fun _ . They glanced at each other and both nodded.

Before they knew it, they were bouncing around on Will’s bed, scream-singing the lyrics into fake microphones (a pencil for Will, a paintbrush for El). Well, Will was scream-singing the lyrics. El didn’t know the song, so she was just screaming. Once the song faded out and an ad for toothpaste came on, they collapsed onto the bed, giggling. 

“Where did you get that?” El asked, pointing at the radio.

“My mom got it for me for my birthday,” Will replied. 

El stared at him blankly. “What’s…‘birthday’?”

“Oh! Uh…” Will looked around the room. “It’s the day you were born. Every year on that day, your friends and family get you presents and you have a party. Mine’s on March twenty-second.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t have a birthday.”

“Sure you do. Everyone does. You had to be born sometime, right?”

El shrugged. “I think so. I have a mama.”

“Since you don’t know your birthday, why don’t we come up with one?”

“Okay.”

Will looked over at his calendar. “Didn’t Mike and Dustin and Lucas find you on November sixth?”

“Yes. I don’t want that to be my birthday, though.”

Both of them shivered, remembering. The cheerful scream-singing had melted, leaving an icy puddle in its wake. Suddenly, a thought struck Will. He clapped his hands and stood up.

“Today will be your birthday. It’s November eleventh. Geddit? Eleven-Eleven, like your name?” he jabbed at her arm, laughing exaggeratedly hard. She giggled and batted away his hand. “Let’s make you a cake!” Will grabbed El’s hand and dragged her into the kitchen. He didn’t know how to make cake. “I know how to make pancakes, though!”

Eleven got down the Bisquick with her mind-powers while Will cracked eggs into a bowl. They decided, after some deliberation, to make one massive pancake to celebrate El’s birthday. Will discovered an old bottle of rainbow sprinkles and poured them all into the batter. 

They didn’t have eleven birthday candles, so they shoved two into the center (“See? It looks like the numbers, one-one!”) and nearly burned their fingers lighting them.

When it came time to sing the birthday song, Will did the best he could at explaining to her how to make a wish (“No, you don’t tell me what the wish is. Then it won’t come true.”) before they cut into it and gave each other enormous slices with ungodly amounts of whipped cream.

It was a bit overcooked and raw in the middle (they had turned the heat on too high), and there were a couple of large eggshell pieces, but it was one of the most delicious things either of them had ever tried.

Finally, overstuffed with pancake and whipped cream, they flopped onto the floor and let Chester lay on top of them. They had dragged the radio out to the living room, and  _ Africa  _ by Toto blasted while they stared at the ceiling, mindlessly fondling Chester’s ears.

“Will?” Eleven asked.

“Hm?”

“What is ‘gay?’”

Will went taut as a wire, his heart beating like a mouse’s in his ears. His breath caught in his throat. “Where did you hear that?”

“The mouthbreathers called you that. When you were gone.”

“Oh. Yeah, that...that happens.”

“What does it mean?”

Will sighed and sat up. He turned off the radio. “You know how girls like boys and boys like girls, right?” El nodded. “Well, sometimes, boys like boys in that same way, and girls like girls. That’s called gay. But people don’t like it.”

El propped herself up on one elbow. “Why not?”

Will looked around the room, as if the answer would pop out at him. How could he explain what had been so ingrained into his mind, what even he didn’t understand? “Uh, I don’t know. Because it’s different, I guess. People don’t like different.” For one brief moment, Will’s mind drifted to the Wheelers. In his mind, the Wheelers were the perfect, not-at-all-different family. He immediately felt like an asshole for thinking that, though, so he banished the thought from his mind. El was still looking at him expectantly. “I don’t think it’s all that bad, though. People think that other people are pretty, I guess. It’s not as complicated as some people think.”

El nodded knowingly. “Mike,” she said.

Will’s stomach did a sharp flip as he gave an imperceptible squeak. “W...what do you mean?” He stammered, looking anywhere but at El.

“I mean, I think that Mike’s pretty. It’s like that, right?” El’s brow furrowed.

“Oh! Yeah, like that. Exactly.” Disaster averted. Momentarily.

“But some boys could think that Mike is pretty, right?” El was looking at Will with too much intensity for the question to not be incredibly loaded. 

Will glanced at her, smiling sheepishly. “Yeah.”

El sighed and laid back down on the carpet. “I would not blame any boy who thought that Mike was pretty.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was almost entirely self-indulgent time for Will and El to be best friends. Leave me a comment and let me know what you thought!
> 
> My Tumblr is @lofe-mawk and feel free to go check it out!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for vomit and panic attacks

Will’s shirt stuck to his back underneath his sweater. He could feel all eyes on him as he shuffled to his seat. Mr. Clarke gave him an encouraging smile as he slid into his chair next to Mike. He let out an exhale that he didn’t know he had been holding. He could do this.

It was the first time he had been back at school since everything had happened. He had felt so stifled at his house that at times, it felt like he couldn’t breathe. So, he was here in his cramped, hard plastic desk surrounded mostly by people that he didn’t like. Clearly a better choice than staying at home. To make matters worse, it was raining and Will had to bike to school in the cold and wet and was on edge all morning.

Will managed to survive first period through a mixture of the reassuring smile’s that Mike gave him and the fact that he was too busy focusing on what Mr. Clarke was saying to let his mind wander. He startled at the shrill bell signifying the end of the class, and hurried to shove his notebook into his backpack before the students bottlenecked at the door and he was trapped in a throng of people. He managed to make it out of the classroom and was immediately thrust into a sea of people tripping over one another to make it to their next class. He gave a gasp as someone behind him accidentally elbowed him on her way out of the room.

_ "Go away, you jerk! _ ” Someone screamed further down the hall. The words pinged around in Will’s brain like a pinball machine.  _ Go away! _

He hurried to turn around, away from the shout. He didn’t care that he was running in the opposite direction from his next class. He needed to be alone, and quiet.  _ Go away! _

He was shoved against some lockers by a group of rowdy boys in basketball shorts.  _ Go away! _

Hot saliva pooled in his mouth. He was going to throw up. _Go away!_

He managed to make it into a bathroom. He threw open a stall door and sank to his knees, retching and heaving up everything he could. He took a shuddering breath that came out as a sob. He vomited again. It was mostly bile and burned his throat and nose as it forced its way out. He curled into a ball on the ground, tears streaming his face. Puking and crying. How much more pathetic could he be? Go away _!  _ He shook his head back and forth violently. He was having trouble breathing. The light was closing in on him. He heard a door slam. He was breathing through a pinprick in his throat.  _ Go away, go away, go away, GO AWAY!  _

Arms closed in on him, pulling him close. He gave a growl and swung his arms, pushing away with all his might. He curled up into a tight ball.  _ Go away. Please.  _

Eventually, he was able to open his eyes. The pinprick of air in his throat expanded somewhat. Mike was sitting on the ground next to him in the cramped stall. He slowly...slowly let his shoulders relax. 

“Excuse me?” Will and Mike looked up sharply. A girl with an orange cable-knit sweater and glasses eyed them suspiciously. “Are you two done? This is the  _ girl’s  _ bathroom.”

Will scrambled to his feet, pulling Mike up by his hand as they hurried out of the open stall. “S...sorry,” Will said to the girl as they left the bathroom. She gave a scoff. As they left the bathroom and walked past the blue sign that read  _ GIRLS RESTROOM _ , Will released a snort of laughter. It was breathy and high-pitched, and it seemed to startle Mike, who gave a surprised giggle. Soon, they were hunched over, holding onto each other for support as they gasped for air and wiped tears from their eyes.

“W-we’re so late for class,” Will managed before they succumbed to laughter once more. 

They finally made it back to their respective classes in a state of near giddiness. Not even Mrs. Stevenson’s disapproving glare could bring Will down.

Over the next few days, things slowly became easier. Despite how tempting it was to bury his head in his blankets and hide in his house for another few weeks, Will knew that the only way to handle everything was through exposure. He didn’t have another meltdown, thank god, but Mike was always waiting outside his classroom to escort him to his next one. Through several sleepless nights, Will was slowly wading through the sea of missed assignments and homework he had missed. His friends were jubilant that he was back, and the bullies seemed to keep away. Momentarily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i uh
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> i have nothing to say for myself
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> more will probably be coming soon but you should know better than to trust me by now


End file.
